


The Nightsweep

by yeotto (woelfchen)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, Canonical dead parents, Derek Hale & Laura Hale Are Twins, Drama, Lord Derek Hale, M/M, Servant Stiles, Slow Build, Victorian era, kate argent is a bitch
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-03-16 00:41:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13624911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woelfchen/pseuds/yeotto
Summary: "The house is a mess."After Derek's sister Cora points out in what bad state their home is, Derek finally admits that yes, he's let it slide for far too long. He needs to finally deal with it, and if that involves turning the staff upside down, so be it.Or, the only thing Derek wants is to live in peace and harmony, but everyone around him as their own  ideas.





	1. Chapter 1

"Derek, you really can't let this continue any longer," Derek's sister Cora insists one day while they sit together in the study. She has a book in her lap, opened to the same page for a far longer time than was convincing. Derek puts his pen back down into the inkwell, before he looks over at her.

"What do you mean, Cora?", he asks her.

"The house is a mess. I had to visit my friends four times in a row, because I couldn't bear to invite them here. There is dust collecting on the furniture, the air stagnates for weeks in all the rooms except for the dining hall, and mud is smeared on the floor in the main foyer because the servants don't use the back door when they come in from the garden. The house is a  _mess_ ."

 

He takes a moment to think her words over. "You really think so?", he asks, looking around in the room. There is some dust on the shelves, sure, but this was his study. He generally forbade servants from entering the room when he was working. Which was most of the time, so they really didn't have a chance. Maybe he could open one of the windows, too, but he didn't want the wind messing with his organized letters and written papers. But that wasn't the servants fault.

Cora groans so loud, Mrs Martin would tell her off for it. "I'm talking about the whole house. This room - it's fine. But go and take a walk. The parlor hasn't seen a broom in weeks and the kitchen is so dirty that I worry about the food they serve. And I'm sure the only room that gets cleaned up every day is Miss Kates, and that is only because you don't have the guts to do your job!"

 

Derek startles and Cora gasps softly. "Derek, that's not - you do well. I don't mean it like that. But you have to finally get over yourself and take over your house. You're 23 years old, you've been the head of the house for so long now. You don't need Kate Argent to lead the house for you."

Derek gathers his things to put them away. "Thank you for your input, Cora. I think Mrs Martin is looking for you, you shouldn't let her waiting any longer. You should go."

Cora put her book aside and stands up. "Don't be angry with me. I just want you to see what I see. You are strong and can deal with your staff by yourself. Kate Argent is poison for the house."

"Go now, Cora.", he tells her firmly. When she leaves, he lets himself drop down onto his bench again and takes a deep breath. Derek wishes Cora was right. But he didn't feel ready to take on the last job his parents had left him just yet.

 

* * *

 

That evening at dinner, his butler delivers a letter to him. It has a stain on the envelope, and he thinks that it may have been lying around for a while before it got to him. He takes it with a pointed look, but Harris ignores it and walks out without the proper procedure. 

"What's that?", Miss Kate asks and moves her chair closer to him. Derek clenches his other hand under the table. He puts the envelope face down to the left of his plate, so she wouldn't snatch it up. She's done that before, when he received several reports one morning. "A letter, addressed to me," is his whole response.

 

Miss Kate pinches her lips shut, but gingerly picks up her fork again. "We have not received word from town yet. I should send the Steward to make sure all rent got paid properly." she remarks with a raised chin.

" _I_ " Derek emphasizes, "have received the report, and  _I_ have dealt with the few people who have not yet paid." 

Miss Kate stabs at her steak with too much force. "What's with the aggressive tone? Derek, I'm just trying to help you, you know that, right? That's what I'm here for." She smiles at him sweetly, and Cora, who is sitting across from him, snorts into her juice. Cora has never liked Miss Kate very much, regardless how hard she had tried to install herself within Cora's circle of friends.

"Something wrong with you, dear? Maybe I should send for Doctor Deaton if you're getting a cold.", Miss Kate asks, regarding her with narrowed eyes. Derek notices the endearment she uses to address his sister. It sits wrong with him, but he decides to let it slide. He'll keep looking for it though.

"Thank you, Miss Argent, but you're overstepping.  _You_ have never been hired by this house. Your late  _father_ has.", Cora bitingly points out. Miss Kate lets out a scandalized gasp, tears filling her eyes quickly.

 

Derek suppresses a groan and rubs a hand over his forehead. "Cora-", he starts, then hesitates. He weights his options for a second. Before he could tell her off nicely but agree that yes, Miss Kate has no business in his dealings, the woman has thrown back her chair and dramatically left the room in a flurry of her pale green satin dress.

 

Cora sighs in relief. She immediately starts eating her meal in a much more jovial manner than before. Derek rubs his temples. "Cora-", he starts again.

"No, don't you start this now, Derek." she interrupts him. "You can't let her take over everything! Don't you see what she's trying to do just because she bats her eyelashes at you and wears dainty dresses? I encourage you to start walking trough your house with open eyes. Your staff doesn't keep your rooms in check, but Miss Argents? Spotless. We haven't had your favorite meal for 2 months, but we've had to suffer trough quails four times? The Housekeeper started reporting to her, the Game- and Groundskeeper have a second meeting with her after they meet with you. And have you payed any attention to your staff lately? Every other week, she has one or two fired and replaced, and the new hires all report to her. Derek, your house is getting taken over. I'm done dropping hints for you, if I have to spell it out for you, I will: Kate Argent will run us out of our home!"

 

Derek stares at his sister in shock. What is she even talking about? "This is ridiculous, Cora. This is  _my_ house and  _I_ am the one paying our staff. If I want something done, they do it! Let me-" he stands up abruptly, calls on one of the servants standing at attention. "You there." He stares at the boy for a long time, searching for his name. He finds that his brain comes up empty. It's strange, since he's always taken pride in the fact that he knows everyone on his payroll at least by name and position, sometimes even family members. It's something that his parents had done before him and he always tried to pick up from them. "What was your name again?"

"It's Liam, my Lord.", the boy says in a quiet voice.

"Liam, right. Tell the cook that I want venison prepared for the meal on Saturday. Served with red wine for me and champagne for my sister. The table is to be set for two, and Miss Argent is to take her meal either in her chambers or at a later time. Don't serve her venison. Pork for her, with peas and potatoes."

 

The boy nods, his eyes wide. "Of course, Sir. I will tell the cook, but you should know that Miss Argent already has a meal plan for the month set out. And she has instructed us specifically not to serve her what she calls 'servant meals'."

By now, Liam doesn't dare look up from the floor. He is clearly highly uncomfortable by the situation, given that he heard their argument just moments ago.

Derek squares off his shoulders and glances at his sister for a second, before he faces the servant again. "Miss Argent is not in charge of the plan. From now on, only my sister and I will have any say about it, in fact it will be a great exercise for my sister to take over the job from now on, so she has experience with it when she's managing her own house some day. And Miss Argent will eat what is served for her or nothing at all. You are dismissed."

Liam scrambles away, his shoulders hunched and his head ducked. Derek turns to look at his sister, who looks split between approving and taken aback. Still, she smiles at him.

 

"You better get in touch with the kitchen staff, or we won't have any food served for the next week."

Cora grins at him and stuffs a piece of broccoli into her mouth. Then, with her mouth full of food she says: "How do you feel about fish? I don't think we've had any in weeks either."

Derek smiles back at her, shaking his head fondly. "Be nice, will you? Make sure to include some things that Kate will eat, too."

His sister doesn't answer, but Derek knows that she will comply.

 

 

* * *

 

 

When Derek retires for the night, the letter he received late falls out of his waistcoats pocket. He had hastily stuffed it in before leaving the dining room for the servants to clean up. Derek finishes changing into his nightgown, without Harris' help since his butler was nowhere to be found. He sits down at the small writing desk he has in one corner of his room. 

He opens the letter and finds Lauras neat handwriting inside. His heart leaps when he realizes that his twin has taken the time out of her busy day to write him. She has been married to a good man for nearly a year now and was still getting used to her new surroundings, so Derek doesn't hear from her as often as he'd like to.

 

> _My dear brother,_ she writes him,  _I hope this letter finds you in good health. My husband Deucalion and I are well, since we started taking daily walks in our garden. I still miss you and Cora terribly at times. I expressed my desire to come and see you, and my husband agreed that it will be good for my health to see the both of you again. Please have a room prepared for me in two weeks. My husband will not be able to make the journey with me, since he is terribly busy at the moment, but wants to make sure that I send his best regards. He wishes to invite you for the hunting season, since we are to expect an abundance of game this time around. Please send my regards to Cora. I will see you in two weeks,_
> 
> _Lady Laura Pierce_

 

Derek can't help but smile, even if he worries about his sisters health. He notices that she has mentioned it not once but twice, which is highly unlikely for her. Laura has always been the healthiest of the siblings and could go out to town, even when Derek and Cora were bedridden. But then again, Derek hasn't seen his twin for a while and he imagines that she worries about his tendency to worry. She's known him since birth after all.

It's then that he notices the date that was neatly written in the upper righthand corner of the letter and he freezes. This letter has been written eleven days ago. He can't have the servants start preparing for her arrival since night already set, so he has only two days to work left before Laura will be there.

 

In a panic, he throws a robe over his nightgown and heads down to the kitchen, in the hopes of finding someone there. Sometimes, the cook Mrs Stevens is still awake to prepare the next days meals. He passes some servants in the hallway but pays them no further notice, even when two of the girls start giggling about his attire.

He rounds the corner and goes down the staircase, walks past the sitting room and around another corner. He sighs in relief when he sees that there is still light on in the kitchen. Derek opens the door widely, looking around for his cook. Whom he finds instead is a familiar kitchenhelp stirring something in a big pot.

"Lord Hale, how may I help you?", he asks, adverting his gaze from the illdressed Derek.

 

Derek squares off his shoulders, pulling his robe closed completely from where it fell open just a bit over his chest. "I was hoping to talk to Mrs. Stevens about the meal plan. I suppose she's already retired for the night?"

"She has. Lord Hale, your sister has been by earlier, and the plan has been changed to accommodate your wishes already. Do you wish to see it?"

Derek frowns. Having the plan changed again doesn't seem like a good idea any longer. "Yes, please." While the kitchen aid takes off a chalkboard from the side of a cupboard, Derek looks around in the kitchen. Cora had mentioned earlier that it wasn't up to standard. There were indeed dirty dishes stacked in the sink, and a couple of stains on the center island, but it wasn't like there were piles of dirt collecting on the stove. The floor was kind of sticky though.

 

"Thank you. Your name is Boyd, right?", Derek asks as the kitchen aid hands him the plan.

"That's correct, Sir," the man smiles at him before quickly adverting his gaze again.

Derek nods to himself, pleased that he remembered. "Good. Boyd, say, how often do you clean the surfaces?"

 

Boyd looks around, frowning. "The maids are supposed to come in every day, but I don't think I have seen one in a couple of days, Sir."

Strange. Derek doesn't comment on it further. He looks over the meal plan which includes much more variety than he thinks he's even had in the last few months. "This is good. Boyd, please tell Mrs Stevens that we're expecting a visitor by Saturday and to have enough food prepared for one more person." Derek hands back the plan and backs out of the kitchen.

 

On his way back, he crosses paths with Harris by chance and tells him off again about not showing up to do his duty. Then he tells him to wake him early the next day before he retires for the night for good.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought about sprinkling in actual facts about the victorian era here and there after a chapter. 
> 
> Victorian Fact #1:  
> In victorian households, the husbands expected their wives to be competent in handling accounts, ordering supplies, paying bills, approving menus and dealing with unexpected happenstances. Often times, men handed over the budgeting responsibilities over to their wives completely, along with an allowance. This resulted in men not knowing how to do anything when their wives die, struggeling to make ends meet. A widower, instead of learning how to do it himself, might now hand that responsibility over to a (teenage) daughter, who knew what her mother was doing. This is why it's not unthinkable that Derek hands the responsibilities over to Cora, for practice.


	2. Chapter 2

In the morning, Derek visits the kitchen once more, before he joins Cora for breakfast. He tells Mrs Stevens again to make sure to include Laura into her planning. She promises to feed Laura well and to prepare some of her favorites on the side during her stay. Before he leaves, he asks the present staff to pass on word that he expects all of them before noon in the grand hall. He personally wants to remind everybody of their place and works twice as hard to welcome Laura back to their home.

 

During the assembly, there are far too many blank faces when Derek announces that his sister will visit. Cora hasn't stopped grinning since he told her during breakfast, but half of their current staff doesn't even seem to know that Derek had another sister. "I expect all of you on your best behavior. All the rooms have to be cleaned thoroughly, not just the guest quarters and the sitting rooms. The grounds keepers should focus their work on raking and weeding, make the grounds presentable for visitors. The stables have to be cleaned out, and, I shouldn't have to mention it, but the bedding in the guest quarters as well as the blankets in other rooms have to be cleaned and ironed. The fireplaces have to be stocked."

While he's addressing his staff, he notices that many of the servants don't look at him directly, but rather somewhere to his right. Derek knows without looking why. He clears his throat loudly to gather their attention, then takes a peek to his left, where Cora stands. "You will all do well to remember that you are all in _my_ employment."

He turns to leave. Miss Kate stands in his way, staring at him for a second, before she turns to the staff and barks out: "Well, you heard him. There is lots to do, chop chop!"

She briskly walks away.

 

Cora steps up to him and touches his arm. "You did well, Derek. I'm very happy that soon everything is as it was before. Laura is gonna come home!"

Derek smiles at her. "I'm glad, too. Her presence will do wonders for all of us."

 

* * *

 

 

After that, the house is in a flurry. Derek tries to avoid most of it by visiting the stables. He takes out his mare and grooms and saddles her by himself, while one of the stable boys takes care of her box. Isaac still asks five times if Derek needs any help with the mare, any help at all. With a brush in his hands, Derek waves him off each time.

 

He takes the horse out for a long ride, along the outskirts of his land where the grounds keepers have slacked in their work. He notices for the first time how out of shape the once carefully tended to bushes were, and how high the grass has grown. Derek guides his mare along a riverside that he generally enjoys a lot, but he has to avoid low hanging or sometimes even fallen branches. He's not equipped to have his mare jump, so he has to steer her around for a safer way. At one point, he comes to a rest on a path leading into the forest, contemplating if he should go in. He decides against it, but dismounts to have a short rest, sitting against one of the trees lining the alley. From here, Derek can see the mansion and its orchard, the small vegetable patch to the side where some of the servants work. Most of the windows of the house are thrown open wide, some maids shaking out cloth, some even wiping the windows. He can't remember the last time they did that.

 

Maybe, Derek thinks, Cora was right. Maybe he was too soft on the staff. Or, as he now comes to realize, he has given too much into the hands of Miss Argent. She was never hired, just took over after her father died. He's going to have a long talk with her as soon as he's back in the mansion.

 

 

He enjoys the rest of the morning by making a big round around his lands, taking notice of the state it is in. At places it is quite worrying. He's going to have a talk with his grounds keeper about it. He knows that every now and then, unexpected visitors knock on his doors, calling on him. And every other week, they open their doors for tours of the house. Having guests travel across the land when it looks like this is a shame. Derek remembers the estate from when his parents still lived, enjoyed playing with Laura and later with Cora when they managed to escape their tutors. The flowerbeds were kept tidy and neat, the grass cropped short and the trees and bushes in shape.He remembers that the hallways always smelled like flowers, even in the winter when there was no flowers to be cut down in the garden. Everything had been so clean then, pristine for their various guests.

Gerald Argent, when he took over the house when Derek was too young still, made sure to keep up the appearances. And then, when he died of old age, his daughter took over for him. Kate Argent had installed herself at the head of the house, making decisions and changing out the staff in secret.

This would have to stop. Cora was right. Derek made up his mind and made his way back home.

 

* * *

 

Isaac is glad to take the reigns of Dereks mare when he gets back to the stables. He had finished with her box, and quickly starts taking off her gear. Derek stays behind for a moment and watches the stable boy work.

"Isaac. You have been working here for quite a long time, right?", he asks out of the blue.

 

The younger man freezes, then looks over his shoulder. "Yes, Sir. I quite enjoy to work with your horses. Please don't lay me off."

Isaac blanches and his hands are trembling. The mare lets out a snort, and Isaac flinches in return. He reaches out a hand to pet her mane, calming her down. Derek takes it all in with a frown. "Why would you think that? I was actually going to ask you a question."

The sudden tension in Isaacs shoulder releases a little. "Oh thank god. What do you need to know, my Lord?"

Derek looks him over as far as he can see over the mares body. He steps around the mare so he can look Isaac in the face while they talk, then clears his throat. "You may speak your mind now, Isaac, without having to fear for your job. I promise that your word will have no effect on your employment, so please speak the truth."

Isaac shuffles uncomfortably, adverting his gaze.

 

"I'm quite sure you've noticed a change within the people living here within the last year or so. When they talk about their employment, what are they saying? Do they like working here? Do you actually like it here?" The words just keep tumbling out of his mouth unfiltered. It wasn't exactly what Derek wanted to ask, but it was close enough that he didn't take any of it back. While Isaac considers his next words, Derek reaches out to gently run his hand along the mares neck, petting her softly. She turns her head to look at him, stomps with one hoof. He takes back his hand.

"I may speak freely?", Isaac asks quietly. Derek nods his head yes, and Isaac scratches his neck nervously.

 

"I have always enjoyed working here. I grew up in town, my mother was employed here as a laundry maid. She took me with her a lot, so I practically grew up here. I remember that there was always laughter while the women worked. Everywhere, really. It's not like that anymore, Sir."

Isaac starts grooming the mare again, wiping her down thoroughly. He frowns heavily, still thinking over his words. Derek gives him time, this is too important a matter to force words out of the mans mouth.

"Half of the staff doesn't know the rest. The ones that have been working here the longest are fearing that they might loose their employment. Not because of you, Lord Hale, of course not, but because of Miss Argent. There is a rumor that-" Isaac shuts his mouth so abruptly that his teeth click together loudly.

 

"What kind of rumor?" Derek leans closer again. He might get to the bottom of this after all.

Isaac is now severely uncomfortable, pale and sweating more than his current work calls for. He shuffles on his feet, then decides to put away the brush. "Isaac, tell me. Remember, you will not face any consequences." Derek swallows his pride. "Please. This is important."

Derek can see Isaac weighting down his options, hesitating still to answer. "One of the Footmen that accompanies Miss Argent on a regular basis overheard her telling a friend of hers that she expects you to ask for her hand in marriage by the end of this year. Since then, she had most of your loyal staff replaced by new hires." The stable boy swallows. "They listen to her word."

 

Derek can't help but stare. This whole matter is ridiculous. He leaves without another word, planning on cornering more of his staff. He needs to know if this is something that most of them agree upon.

 

* * *

 

Cora catches Derek off guard when he enters trough the grand foyer. She calls him over into the parlor, where she's sitting with Miss Lydia Martin, her close confidante. He stands while they sit, facing them with squared off shoulders.

 

"Derek, I need to talk to you immediately. This is an important matter." Cora tells him, waving the footman in the room away. "Lydia confided in me earlier. Apparently her mother was told her service isn't needed here any longer. Would you care to explain that for me?"

Derek frowns. "Where does this come from? Miss Lydia, your mother is in my direct employ and doesn't listen to the Housekeeper. I certainly don't recall having that kind of conversation with your mother. In fact, the last time I spoke with her, I was praising her for the education Cora and yourself are receiving. I do not wish to let her go."

 

Miss Lydia leans forwards just a little. With a tilt of her head she looks Derek, still dirty from his time on horseback and then in the stables over. Derek refrains from fidgeting only by practice. The young woman has such a regal aura surrounding her, that everyone at the wrong end of her gaze is made feeling improper. Granted, right now Derek is not as prim as he's supposed to be, but they have stopped him before he could have changed.

"Lord Hale, my mother is right now in the process of packing up our belongings. After breakfast, when everyone else was scrambling to fulfill your short timed demand, Miss Argent came forth to demand we move out of the rooms you provided for us. She insisted that they would be needed for the upcoming visit of Lady Pierce, and that your dear sister Lady Cora wouldn't need any further education anyways."

 

By now, Derek felt a headache coming his way. He took a deep breath. "To be clear. My sister Lady Laura will reside in her old quarters, in the family wing. Whatever staff is traveling with her will either reside close by, or in the staff quarters. Your rooms are not needed, nor will I demand off you to clear out should other guests arrive on short notice. There are enough rooms available for everyone. Lady Cora will receive her education for as long as she wishes, and after that, I will write a glowing letter of recommendation for your mother. If this is all, I have business to attend to. Have a good day, Miss Martin, Cora."

 

He leaves the room briskly, changing his plan of action once again. This has gone on for too long.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Derek calls for his Butler Harris, before he makes his way into his quarters. He has to wait for a few minutes before the older man arrives with a pinched face, looking grim. "How can I be of assistance, Lord Hale?"

 

Derek doesn't like the tone his Butler uses, but he ignores it. He's going to tackle one problem at a time. "Warm water to wash myself, and a fresh set of clothes", Derek demands. After a brief look around, he adds: "And this room has not seen the proper attention. The fire has not been stoked yesterday evening and the embers burned out before I retired."

Harris grinds his teeth, but forces a smile. "I will call for water, my Lord."

 

Harris leaves the room, and to Derek's surprise, the water gets delivered quickly. Derek washes up quickly and gets dressed properly. He decides on one of his more expensive outfits, just to underline the point he's going to make. On a normal day, he would not wear it since it is actually quite uncomfortable. The fabric was itchy on the inside and the way it was tailored draws way too much attention to regions that Derek wouldn't want exposed in a public setting.

Still, his sisters both insist that it was of the latest fashion and fitting him rather well. Of course, that had been last year and a big faux-pas at social gatherings this season. But still good enough to wear in his own home.

 

When he is done, he instructs Harris to find Miss Argent and escort her to the waiting room, where he wants to meet her. Harris nods and leaves, again without the proper proceedings. With pinched lips, Derek makes a mental note of that.

Instead of going straight to the waiting room, Derek first heads to his study. There was still business to attend to.

 

* * *

 

Derek manages to finish two letters before there is a polite knock on the door. It opens to reveal a Footman Derek is not familiar with. Probably one of the new hires and from Miss Argents personal servants then. The Footman gives a brief bow before he addresses Derek: "Miss Argent is waiting in the sitting room for you, Sir."

 

Derek finishes his sentence on the third letter he's working on. "I will be seeing her in a moment." The Footman turns to leave, but Derek interjects before he can open the door. "I have not been made aware of a new hire. Who are you?"

It's a bit rude, but then again, the man should not expect formalities from Derek. The man turns again, straightening his back. "My name is Matt Daehler, I was hired nearly 3 weeks ago. I have been working mostly to serve Miss Argent, Sir."

Derek tutts, and Matt pinches his mouth shut. "Tell me, Matt, what were the conditions under which you were hired?"

 

Matt clears his throat, facing Derek head on. "I was hired to aid and please the Lords and Ladies living in your beautiful home, Sir. I was asked to pay special attention to Miss Argent."

Derek puts his pen away and stands. "And who exactly made that arrangement?" He steps around the broad desk, closer to the Footman. He swallows, but doesn't shrink back down.

"Your Butler Mr. Harris oversaw the process, my Lord. I was made aware that this was done by your command."

 

Derek clenches his fist and draws his hand back behind his back. He had no reason to be aggressive towards this man. He had not faulted Derek willingly. "Mr. Daehler. From now on, you will not be catering to Miss Argents wishes any longer. You said it yourself before: You were hired to aid the Lords and Ladies in this house.  _Miss_ Argent is neither. In fact, there are only my sister Lady Cora and myself, and my sister Lady Laura Pierce as soon as she arrives. You will report to the kitchen, and talk with Mrs Stevens. She will appoint you to another section of the house. You are dismissed for now."

 

"Of course, Lord Hale." The footman bows and leaves the room. Derek nods to himself. This little scene had worked out better than he expected it to.

 

* * *

 

When Derek finally puts away his business letters, it has been almost an hour. He smiles to himself all the way over to the sitting room. In front of the open doors, there is a maid loitering, hesitating to go in. From inside, he can hear heated but controlled voices.

He approaches the maid first. "Is there something wrong?", he asks from behind her. The blonde woman lets out an aggravated sigh. "Ugh, they are the worst. I'm supposed to gather the blankets and tablecloths from here for the laundry, but Miss Kate keeps dismissing me. I have all the other things already, it's just this room that I can't get done." She spins around with a dramatic hairtoss, then freezes as she realizes exactly who is standing behind her. "My Lord! I mean, it is perfectly fine that Miss Ka- Argent doesn't want to be interrupted. I can do this later and find something else to do. I'm just gonna go and-"

Derek stops her from leaving by sidestepping into her way. "She is not letting you do your work?", he asks, voice quiet and friendly, but firm and demanding at the same time.

The blonde nods, a few of her curls bouncing free from her headband. "I just need to finish this room. Miss Argent won't let me come in, but she won't leave either."

Furrowing his brows, Derek admits: "This is my fault, not yours. Please come in a minute after me and do what you must." He looks her over with a frown. "You have been working here for a while, right? What was your name again, Emily?"

The maid smiles at him. "It's Erica, my Lord. I've been in your service for 3 years." She gives a little curtsy, but he thinks it is more teasing than honest. He lets it slide.

 

Derek clears his throat and straightens his back, then enters the sitting room. Miss Kate is tense all over, sitting in the middle of an overstuffed couch. To her left, Adrian Harris is standing besides the side table with the refreshments. He looks as annoyed as ever, his mouth set in a grim sneer when he faces Derek.

 

"Finally, Derek, did that servant not call on you? I will make sure to have him replaced, he should have known that I'm wasting my precious time here, waiting for you!" Kate declares, rising to stand.

Derek holds out a hand, gesturing her to stop talking. "You will do no such thing, Miss Argent. I think it is time that I remind you that you are here simply as a guest. A guest that has overstayed their welcome for far too long."

"What?", Kate screeches, "Where is this coming from! I have done nothing but help you, since the day I came here! Have you forgotten what I have done for your little family and land?"

 

Derek focuses his entire attention on her, not noticing Harris taking a step back and quietly slipping out of the room. "What  _you_ have done, Miss Argent, is taking advantage of my kindness, and I will no further tolerate it." Derek steps closer to her, positively towering over her. "When my parents died that night, my sisters and I decided to hire your  _father_ to help us with business, until we were off age. It was only out of the kindness of our heart and the tragic loss of our family that we even allowed you to stay here with us until you found a husband of your own, or your brother decided to have you staying with his family. Neither day has come, since other men could see trough your charade and knew a rotten core when they saw one. You have not worked, you have not been a pleasant visitor. You will leave this house and not settle in town. Leave everything that has been bought with my money and don't turn back around."

 

At this point, Miss Argent actually lunges for him and smacks her flat palm across the jaw. Derek is too surprised by her reaction to stop her. Behind him, he can hear a loud gasp and something tumbling to the ground. "You insolent bastard, how dare you? You were too blind to see before, what gives you the sense to cross me? You just made a huge mistake, just you wait, you- Let go of me, you filthy whore!"

Erica has stepped up behind Miss Argent and grabbed her arms to stop her from continuing to hit Derek in the chest. She had gotten two good whacks in while Derek just let it happen. Now though he snaps out of it. Erica is screaming for the guards, footmen, anyone really. Derek inches closer, gathering his full height to tower over the furious woman, but careful not to touch her. "You are wrong,  _Kate_ , it is not I who has done a mistake today."

 

Two of his guards come clattering in, both have their weapons drawn. They take in what they see - Kate Argent struggling but restrained in a maids firm grip, Derek above her. Kate kicks out with her heels and that is when they spring into action. Each guard grabs Kate by one arm and drag her back from their Lord. Erica makes a move as to hurt her, but Derek holds her back with a hand on her shoulder. "Don't. Please go get Parrish right away, I need this handled properly.

Kate is still yelling out profanities and the guards look severely uncomfortable, since she now tries to claw and kick at them, too, her insults directed at them as well.

 

Jordan Parrish, the head of his guard strides in within a minute. "What is going on here?", he asks.

"He tried to touch me!", Kate screeches, her face an angry shade of red and her hair a mess. "He tried to take me against my will!"

Derek backs up a step, surprised. Then, he shakes his head. "This is a wonderful story you have there, Kate. But no man with a brain would want to touch you if he got paid for it." He turns to Parrish. "I have just now explained to Miss Argent that she has long overstayed her welcome and is to leave immediately. Please make sure to escort her first to her room where she may collect her personal belongings, things she can proof she paid for herself or she inherited from her father, and then escort her out of town."

 

Parrish salutes him and gestures to the two guards to follow him. They drag Kate out of the room since she refuses to walk by herself.

Erica is by Derek's side in an instant. "My Lord, you need to put some ice on that! And you should call for doctor Deaton to look at those scratches. Some of them are rather deep, you are bleeding!"

Scratches? Derek hadn't even noticed that she had cut his skin. He touches his stinging cheek and sure enough, not only is it painful and swollen, but his hand comes away with little blood as well. "This isn't as bad as it looks. Thank you for your concern.", he dismisses.

"Well, at least have some ice for the swelling. You wouldn't want Lady Pierce to see this, right?", Erica asks cheekily and damn, she is right. Derek follows her down to the kitchen where she promises she can get him some ice.

 

* * *

 

The kitchen is already buzzing with rumors when Derek and Erica arrive. Mrs Stevens shushes the kitchen aids as soon as she notices Derek, but it's too late for him not to hear.

Derek sighs and decides to address the problem right away. "Miss Argent does no longer reside in this house. She did not take kindly to this. Whatever instructions she gave previously to any of you are no longer in order, but you already knew this. Please make sure to pack some bread and cheese for her upcoming travel, and someone get me some ice right away."

 

The staff bursts into motion all over sudden. Some are smiling widely, some are actually expressing how glad they are in hushed whispers. The help he talked to before comes forth and motions Derek to follow him down into the basement. "We've got an ice chest for storing fresher game down here. I can wrap some into a towel if you'd like, my Lord." Boyd says, as he steps down the stairs.

Derek ducks his head as he steps trough the narrow doorway and takes a look around. He can't remember ever having been down here. There are a lot of preserved things in jars and barrels of various size, he can see roots, potatoes and apples stored in crates, sacks of flour on a shelf. There are small jugs of jam that he sometimes finds on the breakfast table, just not as dusty as they are now. And in the backmost corner, there is a huge metal crate with a lid on it. Boyd steps right up and opens the lid. The crate is filled with snow and ice, and in between he can see frozen meat peeking out in a couple spaces. Boyd scoops up some of the shavings and places them onto the kind of dirty kitchen towel that he has strung over his belt. He ties it up neatly, making sure that the bottom is reasonably clean. "Here you go, my Lord."

 

Derek takes the towel and presses it to his cheek. The difference it makes is instantaneous. "Thank you, Boyd. Do you do this often?"

The kitchen aid smiles at him. "No, my Lord. Having stored ice like this in the summer makes a big difference. We can not take any ice out for ourselves or we wouldn't have any left by august."

It makes sense, Derek supposes. "Should I not put it back, then?"

Boyd shakes his head. "It is different for you. I'm sure you don't want to meet Lady Pierce with bruises covering half of your face. This is fine, really."

 

Boyd closes the lid of the ice crate carefully, making sure that it closes properly. They go back up, where the rest of the staff is again busy gossiping away. Erica stands to the side, waiting for them. Derek excuses himself to go back up to his study, but Erica follows him out into the hallway. "My Lord, I just wanted to say, I've corrected some of the rumors that were spreading in there, and made sure to let everyone know that Miss Argent tried to attack you several times, but you couldn't escape the chair she was throwing at you. Too bad the leg caught your chin, but you must have a very strong bone structure since nothing worse happened to you." There is a twinkle in her eyes, and Derek can't help but smile at her.

Erica promises to tell the latest gossip in the laundry room, too, then she hurries off to finally finish her given task.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Victorian Fun Fact #1.5 (edited in after Fact #2 in chapter 5 - I forgot before, I'm sorry)
> 
> In the basement of Derek's home, there is an ice crate. This is a liberty I took, since I couldn't find if there was a system like this in the Victorian Era. Here's what I could confirm though:   
> Meat had to be examined on a daily basis. If they found mould on a piece of meat, it would get scraped off. Afterwards, they'd rub in flour to the scraped clean areas.


	4. Chapter 4

In his study, Derek hurries to sit down and start writing a letter to Christopher Argent. He has business with the man, and he doesn't want his sister spoiling it with her false accusations. He makes it clear that Kate has not been agreeable any longer and could not be any longer supported trough his house. It the politest way possible, Derek points out that he has only kept her around for so long because he hoped that Kate would soon find a match. He warns Christoper that Kate was probably on her way, and that she'll have a long time thinking about how she can sully Dereks name the most.

Derek doesn't believe that Christopher would fall for the lies that Kate already tried to spread, but he still sets the record straight before she can even get to him. As an seemingly offhand comment, Derek makes sure to include that he could have Kate in front of a court for her behavior, but chooses not to, as long as she keeps her words in check.

The letter is sealed and with a messenger within the hour.

 

With that matter dealt with, Derek rests for a short while. The stinging in his cheek has now turned into a humming pulse, a reminder of the injury with every beat his heart makes. In addition to that, Derek started getting a headache half an hour ago, and all the ice in the towel has by now melted. So he decides to take a short walk, just to clear his head.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Cora and Miss Lydia were in the garden when Derek stepped outside, so he decides to join them for a while. 

His sister grins at him widely when he approaches them. "Dear brother, what is it that I'm hearing about you? The whole house is abuzz with the news."

"I'm guessing it is not about how dashing I look with a towel on my face, is it?" Derek snarks and the women both laugh. Playfully, Cora swats at his arm. "Well, it is part of it. Word is that Miss Kate has left the house. Tell me at once: is it true?"

"It is." Derek confirms. Cora laughs out loudly. "Oh what wonderful news! But tell me; why did I have to hear that from a chamber maid that wasn't even talking to me?"

 

Derek smiles at his sister. "Well, you did hear about it rather quickly, and I had to tell someone else first. Now, humor me. What exactly is it that you heard?"

Miss Lydia leans closer, inspecting his face with narrowed eyes. "Going by the state of your face, I doubt that she actually threw a side table at you when you asked her to leave. Going by what your staff is talking about, you should have at least a broken jaw." She tilts her head a little, stepping closer still. "You do have a scratch mark there though, so maybe the one with the vase is true. Someone said that she shattered one of the ornamental vases and tried to stab through your eye."

Cora giggles besides her. "I would believe that in a heartbeat. Miss Kate was a vicious snake. But to be honest, I love the version where you took her by the lapels to lift her up and drag her out, but she produced a spoon from a sleeve, and tried to scoop your eye out. What a gruesome image!"

Derek frowned. "I'm getting a theme here. Why would everyone think there was something wrong with my eye?"

 

Miss Lydia straightened her posture and flipped a stray curl of her hair back over her shoulder. "It must be because you were down in the kitchen to get some ice. Some of the footmen saw a kitchen help threw one eye out with the trash. But I guess that was just an onion that had gone bad. Now spill. What really happened?"

 

Derek spends a few minutes telling the females about the incident. The part where Kate actually attacked him, he shortens to her getting hysteric. Miss Lydia purses her lips in disdain, and Derek knows it's because she doesn't like that term, but won't tell him off right now. Derek understands that feeling well though. He's seen too often that people, especially well off men, at social gatherings talk about others being hysteric when they talk bad about them. It occurred to him that many of the times, the hysteric person was just reacting to something happening prior to that. Miss Lydia once spent an entire evening lecturing Lord Ennis Dreyers about that. That had been an unforgettable occurrence.

Honestly, Derek is surprised that she's not repeating all her points right now.

 

Cora distracts them both when she starts talking about Laura.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Laura arrives on Saturday in the afternoon. The servants have worked till the very last second, ensuring that everything would be suitable. Since Miss Argent left the house, it was like a lot of the old staff hires could finally breathe again. They worked hard, and kept telling tales of the mischief Laura and Derek got into when they were young. The newer hires kept mostly to themselves, working not better or worse than before. 

The carriage that contains Laura and her entourage comes to a stop in front of the steps leading up to the main entrance. Derek and Laura have been notified by the Footman Liam, that the carriage has entered their land, so they wait on the patio for their sister. Miss Lydia stands at a respectable distance behind them.

 

As soon as the horses came to a full stop, the door to the traveling cabin flows open with a bang. Manners be damned, Laura nearly jumps out and comes running for her siblings. Derek threw out his arms to catch Laura in a big embrace, Cora joining in not soon after. "Oh, I have missed you two so much. Cora, Derek, I am so glad to see you."

"We have missed you so much, Laura. The house was incredibly dull without you. I wish you would never leave.", Cora stated, nuzzling closer to her older sister.

Laura laughed. "But then I would never see my dear husband any more. No, you'll just have to come and see me more often! In fact, I wish for you to come for a week next month. I want you to see where I live now. Oh, and you must bring Lydia. Miss Lydia, would you like to visit the Pierce estate?", Laura calls over Dereks shoulder.

"I would be delighted. Lady Pierce, I am happy to see you home well. I hope your travels have been pleasant."

 

Derek hugs her a little tighter before he finally lets go of his sister. "Come in, let us get you settled first. How long will you stay with us?"

Laura places her hand on Dereks arm, linking her elbows with Cora. "If you'll have me that long, I'll stay till Wednesday."

"Wednesday?" Cora cried outraged, "It'll be as if you haven't even been here at all! No, you must stay longer."

Derek felt the same way. After her long absence, he would prefer Lauras company for a longer time. "Must you really leave so soon?"

Laura laughs again and swats at their arms. "Hush now you two. I have promised Deucalion that I'll be back, he can't stand the thought of me being absent any longer. He worries a lot about me."

Miss Lydia behind them makes an acknowledging noise. "He must care for you deeply then. I am very glad for you."

 

Laura turns to her. "Very much so. When I agreed to our marriage, I didn't think that we would come to love each other so readily - or so quickly. But he has been very attentive and we can talk for hours. I am quite lucky, I must say. I wish for such a connection for all of you as well."

Neither Cora nor Derek have an answer to that. Cora is quite free spirited, and Derek imagines that she will not be wed for a few more years, and Derek himself doesn't strive for social contacts. Finding an agreeable match has not been high on his agenda so far, especially since he's still trying to get his business under control.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The siblings spend the whole day together. Derek decides that his business can wait for a day or two more, while he listens to his twin talking endlessly about her new life. They take walks trough the garden, sit together in the parlor and in the library. 

When they settle down for their dinner in the evening, Laura announces that she came here to tell them the good news in person. "Derek, Cora, there is something I've been wanting to tell you for weeks!"

Cora sits up straighter in her chair, turning to her sister. Derek sets down his glass of wine, having an idea where this might be going. "Spit it out then, what is it?"

Laura stands up dramatically, her chair tipping backwards and falling over. With a flourish, she puts her hands on her belly. "I am having a child, and you two are to be an uncle and an aunt!"

 

Cora shrieks as she jumps up, dashing around the table to engulf Laura in a big hug. They both laugh and cry, and Derek can't help but laugh, too. He joins their rather unconventional hug. "I'm so happy for you Laura. You're gonna be the best mother a child can wish for."

He doesn't even mind when Laura cries on him for the next ten minutes. He knows that Laura always dreamed of marriage and children, even though she never spoke of it. Derek had seen it in the way she looked at families with young kids and played with them when they had visitors.

 

"Is it safe for you to travel alone?", Derek asks when they were about to part for the evening. Laura in turn swats him in the arm. "Don't you even start with that. I'm pregnant, not an invalid. Besides, I'm not even showing more than maybe a small bump right now, I'm not that far along." She sighs, "But I won't be able to keep traveling for long. If Deucalion had his way, I wouldn't leave the bed at all. I set his head straight right away though."

"Of course you did. I apologize, just - listen to your doctors, okay? We're just worrying, that's all."

Laura rolls her eyes. "You worry to much, honestly. Everything will be fine, I promise."

Derek leans over to kiss her head. "Okay. Good night, Laura."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me at bittensweetwolf.tumblr.com If you want to talk!   
> I encourage you to write me an anon telling me how you feel about this fic :)


	5. Chapter 5

"Who is responsible for this?" Derek bellows down the hallways. This was unacceptable, and this time, there are gonna roll some heads for it. Two maids quickly hide in a side room from him when he's stomping down the stairs towards the kitchen area. A footman scrambles to open the door for him. The kitchen falls silent, as soon as he enters.

"Who is responsible for cleaning the floors?" Derek seethes as he looks around the room. A kitchen help whimpers as she carefully cuts the potatoes she's handling into equal wedges. Another doesn't dare to look up from the pot he's stirring.

 

Mrs. Stevens finally takes a deep breath and steps up. "Is there a problem, Lord Hale?", she asks, her tone carefully neutral.

"The problem," Derek starts, having trouble reigning himself in, "is that the hallways are still so damn dirty, that there was a dirty puddle in front of my sisters room. When my  _pregnant_ sister left her room this morning to come for breakfast, she nearly slid right down the stairs. So yes, there is a problem. So better tell me right now, who. Is. Responsible?"

The woman covers her mouth in shock, processing the news.

 

"Shall I fetch the plan, Mrs. Stevens?", Boyd asks from the back of the kitchen. He's calmly kept tending to the meat in front of him the whole time. Derek turns to him, taking another deep breath. "Do that. In fact, I'll come with you. I think I need to have a look at it. Lead the way."

Boyd washes his hands at the sink before he motions to leave the room.

 

* * *

 

Derek is surprised when Boyd leads him to Harris' room. He stops the kitchen aid from knocking with one raised hand. Instead, he points to the servant break room, giving sign to follow him there.

Boyd closes the door behind them, while Derek inspects the room. There is a big table in the middle, cluttered with all sorts of nick nacks. There are plates - the good ones, Derek notices - half full with food still, unfinished card games and a couple books strewn across the surface. There are two broken chairs in a corner, stacked on top of each other, and one of the tapestries was torn down. "What is going on in here?", Derek asks is displeasure.

 

Boyd shrugs. "I don't come here too often. But when I do, there always seems to be some sort of fight going on. Or some sort of party. One time there was even a couple in here, making use of one of the benches."

Derek is appalled. "This has been going on for too long."

He scans the walls for the work plan.

 

"It's not posted here any longer.", Boyd answers his unasked question. "Harris has it in his room. The footmen and maids that don't have a regular post, have to come in the morning to ask him for their job. He will not repeat himself and not post it in the breakroom or the kitchen any more."

Derek stares. How could he have allowed such a thing in his own house? "I will handle this. Thank you, Boyd. You can go back to the kitchen now."

Boyd turns to leave, but Derek remembers something. "Boyd?", he calls, before he's out of the door.

"Yes my Lord?"

"If I were to need a new head of service - who would you trust with that?"

 

Boyd thinks about this for a second. "It would be best to search within your own house instead of having an ad posted. Somebody who worked here since before Mr. Argent first took over and still remembers what it was like before."

"Thank you, Boyd."

 

* * *

 

Only his good upbringing hindered Derek from just barging into Harris' room. Instead, he knocks, waiting to be let in. He can hear a loud banging noise, then a chair scraping over the hardwood floors. A couple of steps thump all the way over to the door, which flies open while Harris barks "What?"

 

Derek raises his eyebrows, completely unimpressed. Harris startles backwards, clearly not expecting Derek. He needs a moment to get himself under control, which Derek uses to step forwards. "Harris.", he says. Derek notices that Harris flinches, his eyes darting over first to his desk, then to the closet in the corner. Interesting.

"My Lord," Harris stammers out, "how can I be of assistance?"

"The cleaning schedule. I need it right now."

 

Harris once again glances at his desk. He hesitates, his body sagging a little. He shoves one hand into his pocket, as he answers "I will bring it to you, my Lord."

"Now, Harris." Derek insists. He takes a threatening step further, pushing the other man back by his sheer presence. "Hand it over."

Harris sways a little on his feet. Then he finally gives in. He hunches over his desk, fiddling with with a small key in the drawers lock. He pulls it open no further than it takes him to push his hand inside. Harris visibly has trouble finding the piece of paper he must have written the schedule onto.

 

Derek smirks. "Here, let me help you." He says and reaches around the other man to pull out the drawer entirely. It clatters to the ground as Harris yells in surprise. Along with the wooden box, a great array of things land on the floor: different pieces of silverware, some rings and necklaces, two pocketwatches, a golden inkwell, a small, empty pictureframe that shatters on impact, even a set of bits from the stables. "And what would all this be?", Derek asks dryly.

"This is all confiscated! The servants stole them all, I have a list, I was gonna hand it to you! Here, this-" Harris lurches down, reaching for one of the rings, "- that wench took it! The blonde one, from the laundry room! I caught her with it when she gathered your clothes from your room!"

Derek takes the ring from Harris' hand. He turns it over between his fingers, and he knows immediately what this is. "Is that so?"

"Yes! And here- the inkwell was hidden in the hay. And, and the watch, stored with the cheese! Here, this fountain pen, that was in the guards barracks! Your servants try to rob you of your last belongings!"

 

Derek runs his index finger over the small engraving on the inside of the ring. "This ring was never in my rooms. It has been locked in with my papers, in a box within a box within the vault. It's a family's heirloom. Tell me, Harris, how a laundry maid would even know where it is hidden?"

Harris suddenly rounds on him. He grabs something from the desk and swings it at Derek.

 

Derek narrowly avoids the paperweight swung to his head and also makes a grab for something on the desk. The first thing turns out to be a fountain pen, and Derek just hurls it at Harris' face. Harris dodges to the left and swings again. The paperweight collides heavily with Dereks arm, pain blooming immediately.

Derek dares a glance at the desk as Harris swings his hand back for another strike. Something long and sharp catches his eye, and he makes a grab for it as he avoids the paperweight yet again. As the next strike comes, Derek ducks to his right and jabs his hand forwards. Harris yelps, dropping his weapon finally. Instead, he clutches where now a letter opener sticks out of his abdomen. His vest quickly turns wet, and Derek realizes what he just did.

 

He throws open the door and yells for his guards and doctor Deaton. He looks over the things strewn over the floor, shuffling trough a couple of the papers on the desk with his good hand.

Guards filter in and grab onto Harris, but also keep him stable, immediately putting pressure onto the wound to keep the bleeding to a minimum. "Lord Hale, what's going on here?" one of them asks.

"The man in front of you is a thief and a liar. Go ahead and lock him up for now. Deaton shall see to him, make sure he doesn't die. I want him to serve a full sentence for his crime. And I want Jordan Parrish in here, going trough his room." He gestures to the ground and winces when he pulls at the sore muscle. "All of this was stored in just one drawer. I'm sure there is more to find in the smallest crooks and crannies."

 

One of the guards, a young man, hurries off to fetch Parrish.

"My Lord, shall we send the doctor to you, first?", another guard asks when he notices that Derek now hold his hand to the wound.

Derek shakes his head. "No. I want Harris in front of a judge, have the full force of the law pressing down on him. He'll bleed out if Deaton fusses over me first."

 

Derek leans down to Harris. He swiftly opens his vest and reaches inside. He takes out the key that he knew would be stored there. "You better hope, that the other ring is still in its rightful place, or I'm making sure that you will never live another day without pain, ever again."

 

* * *

 

The two guards holding Harris start to drag him out of the room, and Harris wails and screams the whole way down to the basement. By now, the younger guard has found Jordan and returned with him. 

 

Derek dismisses all other guards and waits until they are alone. He sighs heavily and rubs his hand over his forehead. Then he turns to Jordan. The other man stands in front of the door, waiting for further instructions. He doesn't say a word, but his eyes glance around the room and his brows furrow in confusion.

"I need you to do something for me, Jordan, and I trust that you do this on your own. I can't trust anyone else right now." Derek says, looking the guard up and down. He's wearing his uniform, a gray vest over a deep black shirt, and s proper jacket in the same gray fabric over that. The same slacks that all his other employees wear, but with a thick belt with a baton on one side strapped around his hips.

Jordan nods. "Of course, my Lord."

 

Derek starts going trough the papers on the desk again, still looking for the schedule. "I need you to go trough this room. There are bound to be many more stolen items from my house. Turn over the mattress, move the furniture. Every last thing needs to be found. And I want you to write everything you find down, to the exact number of butter knives and porcelain plates. Everything that doesn't belong to Harris. If I have time, I'm gonna send someone else that I trust, maybe with a crate or a box - something to put everything in."

Instead of the schedule, Derek finds a stack of letters, in a handwriting that he recognizes well. He grits his teeth as he lifts the stack. It's bundled together neatly with twine, placed delicately on one of the upper shelves. "And look for more of these, too. In fact, I want all his letters of correspondence.", he says, his voice coming out even tighter that before.

 

Jordan gives a little bow. "I will do my best, my Lord. And - thank you for trusting me with this." The guard smiles at him, and it is such a light and airy gesture, that some of the anger eases. Derek doesn't smile back, but he still feels his features soften.

 

Jordan kneels down, sorting trough the clutter on the floor, starting to form piles. "What exactly are you looking for?", Jordan asks after a moment.

"I need the cleaning schedule. It's what I was here for initially, before all this came to light." Derek explains. He continues to pull down things from the dainty shelves and finds more boxes full of stolen things. He sighs and just hands them over to Jordan, who takes the boxes and puts them down with the rest of the stuff.

"I just wonder how I never noticed how many of my things went missing. This is alarming."

Jordan humms in absent agreement. "I'll have to have a talk with the rest of the guards, too. See if maybe someone knows something."

 

Derek nods. "Yes, do that. And - when all of this is done, I need you to keep a keen eye on the rest of the staff, too. Harris was accusing others of thievery. While I do believe that he was just trying to pass the blame, there really is no telling if somebody else isn't talking advantage of my apparent blindness. I know this is a lot to ask for, but I believe that I can trust you with this."

In the back of his mind, he's already planning on his next actions. He rather wouldn't tell his staff off again, but at this point, he doesn't think there's another way around that.

 

Finally, Jordan finds the schedule and hands it over.

Derek needs some time to understand the unstructured scribble. There really seems no sense to it at first. Names and places are written down all over it in no clear order, some notes randomly slapped in between, blotches of ink blacking out some of the informations, and arrows and lines going all over the page. "This is a mess," Derek mutters under his breath, as he sinks down onto the chair. "No wonder he hated someone asking for their tasks."

But at last, he thinks he understands what he's looking at.

 

 

* * *

 

An hour later, Derek has found Matthias Greenburg, a mop in his hand, as he sloppily sweeps up the entrance hall. Derek confirms that his job the day before has been cleaning as well. Derek considers letting him go with a warning, but then he remembers that this young mans actions have endangered his sister and her growing child.

Derek doesn't hesitate to lay him off. At least he promises to write a letter of recommendation for him. He will make sure to mention that the man is not suited for a representative household though. Maybe he could start fresh as a hall boy.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It might be time for Victorian Fact #2:  
> Victorian Houses were practically littered with all kinds of stuff. Victorians believed that a home should be like their own part of heaven, so they filled them up with every little thing they could find. Glas vases filled with corals from the Philippones, wooden carvings from India, brasswork, heavy furniture, all imported, and all expensive. Most of their belongings was displayed in rooms considered to be public such as the parlour, but also in more intimate rooms like the dining and drawing rooms. Everywhere a visitor might be invited to, mostly for the public image.  
> In a huge houses, small items going missing might not be found out immediately. Of course, there were important and dear to the heart things that usually got displayed, but decorative vase #9 or decorative copper plate #21 might go missing for a while. 
> 
>  
> 
> You can find me at bittensweetwolf.tumblr.com  
> Tell me what you think!


	6. Chapter 6

In the afternoon, Derek finds himself sprawled on one of the couches in the parlor, an arm covering his eyes. His sisters sit on the other couch, talking quietly among themselves, making the occasional jab at his posture. Derek doesn't care. He'd told off his employees again after noon, letting them know that he'll keep a closer watch on them. When there was some resistance among his staff, and he'd basically told them to get out right away if they wouldn't obey his rules. Surprisingly enough, there was a good handfull of people that went packing.

 

Derek groans. "How am I even going to bring structure into this house again? There will be talk - there will be rumors and my buisiness partners will know within the week."

Cora tutts and throws a pillow at him. "You could start with finding a good butler who will actually do his job and help you with the staff."

"Yeah, but how will I find one so quickly? I can't very well wait till one magically appears. I'll put an add in the newspaper, for the rest of the staff, but for a butler?" Derek laments, "I don't think I can just trust somebody after all if this. Did you know that Harris took mothers wedding ring? I can't - what if the next one does something worse?"

Laura stands up and walks over to him. She pushes his legs out of the way and settles next to him. She smiles and leans her head onto his shoulder. "Maybe you don't have to. You have good staff here still. At least for now, I'm sure you can find someone."

 

"You know," Derek says, "Somebody else said something similar to me."

Laura puts her finger to his nose and pushes lightly. "That's how you know it's a good idea."

Derek scoffs and swats at her hand. "I just wish I had a little more insight. I've pretty much ignored everyone up until now. I just - I let other people handle the staff all along. Father would be ashamed of me." He admits in a quiet voice.

Laura just hugs him close. "Don't say that. Father would have known how hard it was for you. He didn't have the time to teach you everything you needed to know. And Gerald was good at his job, but that was the issue, too. It was his job, and he didn't want to loose it, so really, he wouldn't teach you either. It's not your fault."

"Yeah, I'm just glad you finally did something." Cora agrees and launches herself at him. "You can learn still. Hey, maybe Lydia will help you!"

 

"No." Derek says, shaking his head. "I'm done putting off this responsibility. I'm sure Miss Lydia will be fabulous at the head of a household, but I've only now taken action myself."

Cora pouts a little, then punches him in the arm. "I'm proud of you, you know that, right?"

Derek grins at her. "You live here, you're contactually obligated to."

"Oh, shut up." Cora deadpans, but can't hold her straight face before she, too, grins.

 

* * *

 

He spends a little more time with his sisters, before Derek finally gets up. He brushes off his fashionable trousers and goes looking for Parrish again. The man has made his way trough most of the room Harris resided in, the doors to the wardrobe open, the covers to the bed on the floor, the mattress leaned against a wall.

"How's it going?", Derek inquires after he closed the door behind himself. Parrish looks up at him with a frown. "It'll be a while still. There is more than I thought possible in here."

 

Derek walks over to the desk, where a couple of boxes are now standing. "Any more letters of interest?", he asks, reaching into the box closest to him. His fingers glide over a decorative vase that he's sure used to stand on the mantle in the dining room. How did that even end up here?

"Letters? A few, but even more interesthing, there was a notebook. I've only leafed trough it, but from what I gathered, it contains business numbers. Income of the house, salaries, and sales.", Parrish answers. He stands up from where he was kneeling besides the bed to inspect the space under it. He walks over to Derek and reaches for a bundle he's placed in one of the boxes.

"Sales? What kind of sales?", Derek asks. He's not made any sales lately that were noteworthy.

Parris frowns and opens the notebook somewhere in the last third. "2 pairs of fine shirts. 2 crowns. Silken Neckerchief, blue. 4 shiling. Gilded hand mirror. 1 sovereign.", he reads out of it. "I believe he sold your belongings, my Lord."

 

Dereks hands tighten to fists in anger. "This is unbelievable. If this is true, he will be paying for all there was. Is there any hint as to whom he sold?"

"Like I said, my Lord, I've only leafed trough. Maybe the letters of correspondence will tell you more. I could also send someone I trust down to the tavern that Harris went to once a week, and do a little digging there.", Parrish answers. He closes the notebook and hands it over to Derek, who takes it and puts it in his pocket.

 

The door opens, and in walks Boyd, two more boxes stacked into his arms. "The silverware and plates are back in the kitchen.", he announces, turning with the boxes still in his hands. He pushes the door closed before turning again and setting the boxes down. Only now does he realize that Derek is in the room with them. "My Lord", he quickly greets him and bows his head.

 

Derek nods to himself. "Good work. Parrish, thank you for your service. Boyd, a word in my study."

 

* * *

 

Boyd follows him visibly nervous. Along the way, a few servants see them walking to his study, and Derek hears some of them start whispering among themselves as they pass by them.

 

In his study, Derek settles behind his writing desk, picking out one of his better pens. He makes sure that he has ink, then pulls out a blank piece of paper. Boyd stands attention ready in front of his desk, waiting for him to start talking. Only now does Derek notice how uncomfortable the kitchen boy must be. "Have a seat.", he releases him with a wave of his arm. He gestures to one of the chairs to the side. "Take one of there over here, please."

Boyd does as he's told, but still lowers himself very hesitantly down onto the ornate chair. It's an uncomfortable one, which is exactly why it's for Dereks guests in his study.

 

"How long have you been working in this household, Boyd?", Derek asks, writing down Boyds name on the paper.

"Since I was very young. My mother used to work here, too, before she was let go by Mr. Argent a few years ago", Boyd answers promptly. "I've started out washing the dishes."

Derek hums and writes down that information. "I suppose Boyd is not your full name."

"No, my Lord. It's Vernon Boyd"

Derek adds the information to the paper. "Do you like working in the kitchen?", he then asks. Boyd stiffens further, and Derek sighs. "I'm not threathening to take your job, Boyd. Please just answer my questions."

"It is the work I have, and eventhough I'm still just a kitchen boy, I make enough to send my mother and sister a little each month."

 

Derek nods, pleased with that answer. "That is noble of you. Boyd, do you remember that I asked you who you would pick as a butler?"

"My answer was to look within your household, if I remember correctly, my Lord."

"That's right. Have you given thought to applying for that position?" Derek smiles at the man who, instead of relaxing only seems more confused. "My Lord?"

 

"I'm in need of somebody I can trust. As of right now, there are way to few people in my house who fit within that criteria. I would choose Jordan Parrish, but I need him to keep the guards in line. You have shown your loyalty as well, and I believe that I can trust you. So humor me and let me interview you for a job."

Boyd visibly blanches. "My Lord, I must protest. I am not qualified for the duties you ask of me. Traditionally, when a butlers position is available, your first footman should fill it. Not a kitchen help."

Derek frowns. "If you truly believed that, you would have said so when I first asked you."

"I said it then, because I believed that you would naturally find the right answer to this, my Lord!", Boyd argues.

 

"How about this then: You take on the job of my Butler until I find somebody who is more suitable. After that, I'll still be in need of a Valet. You'll make 55 pounds in the position of a Butler in this house. What is a kitchen aids salary, 20?", Derek offers.

"It's 17, my Lord." Boyd answers, stunted. "I wasn't aware there was a Valet before."

Derek smirks, putting his pen down at last."There wasn't. While Harris was my Butler, he also took on responsibilities that a Valet would have. That, in addition to us not having a House Stewart, made him hungry for more, I believe. So while you'll take over, know it will be for some time only, until I'll find somebody for each position."

 

"My Lord-", Boyd starts to protest.

"It will only be for a short time. Think of your family, how well you'll be able to support them. As my Valet, I promise you'll still make at least 25 pounds a year. And I honestly believe that you're suited well enough for this job."

"Thank you, my Lord."

 

* * *

 

After a little while more, Derek gets Boyd to agree to his new responsibilities, and they start ironing out the details. Boyds main responsibility would be to manage the staff. He'll have to put out word that they're hiring again for most positions. Derek is to be woken each morning, but he'll dress himself, at least for the time being. Boyd will have to oversee the new staff, get to know everyone that might join the house in the coming weeks.

 

They set their goal to have a reformed household withing a month and a half, and a new Butler by at most 2 months from now. Derek offers to rehire his mother, but she has apparently found work as a tailor, as did his sister. It brings up the interesting topic of others that might have been let go since the house was last led by a Hale in charge. Derek agrees to give anyone within reason a chance, and Boyd promises to put out word the very next moring.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hang in there a little while longer. I promise, yes, this is really Sterek. I promise. Stiles will show up very soon.
> 
>  
> 
> Now, I think it's time to shed some light on the whole money situation, since there was some discussion of salaries in this chapter. So settle in for Victorian Fun Facts #3:  
> Most important to know is that salaries are mentioned at a yearly basis. So making 17 pounds means making 17 pounds within an entire year. 25 pounds compares to roughly 2700 dollars which, even with inflation taken into account, is still dirt cheap labor.  
> Lower income homes with 5 rooms with a kitchen but no scullery could be rented for about 15 pounds per year, and you could buy a modest home in a suburban area for 300. If you wanted a proper, new country home built for yourself, you'd need at least 7000 pounds. As with all things, there really wasn't an upper end. 
> 
>  
> 
> The hierarchy of money goes: Penny - Shilling - Pound  
> 12 penny = 1 shilling  
> 20 shilling = 1 Pound
> 
> some of the coins are:  
> guinea = 21 shillings   
> sovereign = 20 shilling (coin made of gold)  
> crown = 5 shilling  
> half-crown = 2.5 shilling  
> sixpenny = 6 pennies  
> threepenny = 3 pennies  
> half-penny = 1/2 penny  
> farthling = 1/4 penny  
> half-farthling = 1/8 penny
> 
> To put money into another perspective: to buy a full meal ("supper an' a drink") you'd pay 4 shilling.
> 
> If you want to know some slang terms for money, I'd be happy to supply you with some :)


	7. Chapter 7

Wednesday comes way too fast. Letting Laura leave was hard on Derek and Cora, but after a lot of promises to write more and inviting them over, Cora finally releases her from the bearhug she gave her older sister. Derek was just as bad, missing her already again. Additionally, he didn't get to spend as much time with his twin as he'd wanted, since he was busy overseeing the new developments in his house. It seems that word did indeed travel quickly, and by Monday afternoon, there were the first people looking for jobs in his foyer.

Eventually though, Derek has to let go of his sister if he wanted her to get home while the sun was still up. Laura promises once again to send an invitation to them in time, at least three times before her child would be born. And a lot after, so they could get to know their niece or nephew.

 

Laura steps into her carriage, waves a last time, and then her Footman closes the door after her. The man steps onto the front and tells the driver to go. Cora and Lydia stay out on the porch, seeing them off, but Derek decides to go back to his neglected business. There are a few partners that are still waiting on a response from him, and he still has to look trough a lot of the stolen items. Then, there were also the letters and the notebook that called for his attention.

He rubs a hand over his eyes in premature exhaustion, knowing well enough, that this will take him a lot of energy.

 

 

* * *

 

Derek decides to hide away in the library after he discovers that his study was in the process of getting cleaned. His staff was at it with vigor, nearly falling over themselves in trying to please him. The footmen were doubling over themselves in their attempt to open doors for him, maids are running around for their respective jobs, the whole house was in a flurry.

 

Derek settles at the small writing desk in order to start writing his letters of correspondence. There were a few things that, now that he's had time to think about it for a few days, he didn't agree with any longer, so he would have to negotiate new terms with his partners. He grins, this was going to be a lot of fun.

 

 

Boyd comes looking for him in the early afternoon. He stands at attention in front of Derek, his face serious.

"Is there anything you need?", Derek asks, setting aside his pen. He's pleased with the progress he's already made.

"I came to inform you that you have a full staff again, my Lord.", Boyd responds. It is odd, since his words don't fit his posture. He should be relieved instead of tense.

"That is good, thank you Boyd. Is there anything else you need to talk about?" Derek decided he could wait this out.

"A lot of the new hires have worked in your house before. Some are from the first wave of people that left after Gerald Argent became your House Stewart. Those people kept their loyalty to you after all this time," Boyd explained. "I would like to offer them their old positions back, but that means I have to shuffle around some of the other personnel, and I'm afraid it would lead to tension within the staff."

Derek sighs, his shoulders drop. "This is a whole another mess, isn't it?", he mumbles to himself. "The goal is to first assign the positions that are available with the most suited people. After that, offer the rest of the jobs to those less suited."

 

Boyd nodded in agreement, but still looked tense.

"Boyd. What is it you really need to talk about? I have a feeling that this is not what you came here for in the first place."

The man shuffled his feet, clearly uncomfortable. "This is more of a personal favor, my Lord, and I understand if you don't agree with it," he begins. He clasps his hands together behind his back, pushing out his chest in a show of strength. "There is a maid in the scullery, that I believe is neither happy, nor used to her capabilities, my Lord. I would like to offer her a different position, maybe as a house maid. Of course only with your permission, my Lord."

Derek looks over Boyds tense form. He doesn't even dare to look up at him, instead choosing to stare at the edge of the writing desk.

"I believe we've just spoke about assigning the jobs to the most suitable people, did we not?"

 

Boyd sags in relief and takes a huge breath. "Thank you, my Lord. You will not regret this decision."

The Butler turns to leave, but Derek interrupts his departure. "Just out of curiosity, who were you talking about?"

"Erica Reyes, my Lord. She's been in the scullery since she started working here, but she deserves a better position."

 

Derek can't help but smile. "Erica. Yes, I do believe so, too. Say, are we in need of a chamber maid?"

The smile that breaks out across Boyds face is worth more than any letter Derek could have written all day. "Yes, my Lord, we are. I will inform Miss Reyes right away."

"No, wait. If you want to, you can tell her that she'll be promoted, but don't tell her her new position right away. I want everyone to know their new assignments at the same time. Prepare a list with all new positions to post in the break room, and to present at another assembly. Do you think you can finish that till tonight?"

Boyd looks doubtful. "My Lord, with all due respect, there are a lot of decisions to be made, and each one deserves careful consideration. I need to talk with more people, first, and find everyone a suitable position. Tomorrow, by noon, if you will."

Derek agrees. He's pleased with Boyds approach and delighted that he has the people and the houses best interest in mind. He'd make a great House Steward, if he aspired to be one.

 

* * *

 

He takes a stroll trough the house in the late evening, when most of his staff has already retired for the night. He is pleased with the progress they're all making in the house. Now, that he sees the difference happen within just a couple of days, it becomes apparent to him just how bad everything has been before. This, he thinks, is something his parents would have lived in. Not the dusty halls Derek used to reside in.

He thinks of Cora, and how pleased she must be. Silently, he swears to never let her down like that again. She deserves better, and with the upcoming season, she'll want to hold at least one ball in their home.

 

He settles down in the library, the one place in his home he always seems to get drawn to. He notices the change in the room immediately, gone is the stuffy, dusty, _stale_ air. In its stead, Derek breathes in crisp, chilly night air from the slightly open window, mixed in with a pleasant floral scent. It throws him back into a memory of his childhood. He'd been awake early one morning, way before even his parents or the nurse who'd wake him up every day. He'd gone running down the hallways, dressed only in his nightgown.

Back then, the house always smelt like a field of wild flowers, but even more so in the early morning. He remembers his feet suddenly hitting wet floorboards, and his memory jumps forward to him hiding behind a corner. Derek was peeking out from behind it, and down the hallway there was a slender woman who was singing gently to herself. He can't remember her face because she had her back turned towards him, only her long dark hair that was flowing down her back in waves, not done up like everyone else has it. The next thing that comes to mind is him, at the breakfast table that morning. He told his mother all about the siren who smells like flowers that he'd encountered. Talia had laughed and pulled him in by the cheek to kiss his head.

 

Derek smiles at the memory. He'd been an imaginative child, and fascinated with mythology. His father had taken the time out of his evening to read to his sisters and him every day, sometimes fairytales, sometimes novellas, but his favorite were always tales about creatures roaming the earth. He'd loved to imagine himself as one of them, running freely under the moon or swimming with merfolk, sometimes dancing with pixies. He can't remember the last time he did that.

 

He continues his tour, breathing in the fresh scent in the hallways with wistful sigh.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Derek wakes early. His dreams were filled with memories of his youth, of playing with his sisters and the other children living in the house. He thinks that he'd played with them a lot, but isn't sure about it anymore. In his dreams, he'd taken the horses out for wild rides, playing with swords and dancing with nobles. This, he knows, is just what his fantasy made out of sticks and branches, jumping and twirling. He dearly hopes that Lauras child will have a creative mind, too. And that no nurse will try and smother it from the start.

 

Spurred on by his trip down memory lane, he wanders down the hallways again, pleased to find that, like when he was younger, the scent of flowers in the summer was more potent in the morning. Derek smiles to himself, thinking of the woman who had cleaned the floors in his childhood. Maybe Boyd found and hired her again.

 

He keeps looking for wet floors, and listening for soft singing, but he finds neither. "Probably for the better", Derek mumbles to himself.

"What's better?", Cora suddenly asks from behind him. Derek startles and twirls around to face her. She's already dressed for the day, grinning at him cheekily.

"What are you doing here?" Derek asks, evading her question.

Cora cocks a smile. "You were acting weird. Even more so than usual, sneaking around the house. I saw you when I was going for breakfast, so I followed you." She steps closer to him, looking him over. "So what's going on?"

Derek clears his throat. She'll know immediately if he tries to lie, so he doesn't even try to hide the truth. "I just had an urge to see the house. I was reminded of when we were little. So I think I owe you my gratitude."

Cora looks at him like he just grew a second head. Derek can't help but grin. "If it weren't for you, this house would still be out of control. Mom and Dad would be proud of you. You're the reason, this house is well on its way back to its old shine."

 

Cora doesn't respond verbally, but she throws her arms around his neck, hugging him close. Derek doesn't say anything either, just wraps his arms around her, letting her sob quietly into his shoulder.

 

* * *

 

Boyd presents Derek with a complete list of the staff as he promised, by noon. They have a meeting with the entire staff assembled, which Derek joins more as a symbolic gesture than to actually speak to his employees. While Boyd appoints everyones new, and sometimes old jobs, Derek keeps watching the faces of the crowd.

He spots Isaac in the back, clearly surprised that he'd gone up in ranks within the stable. Derek agrees with Boyds decision, since the young man was already doing the work of a Groom while he was still a Stable Boy. He should be payed accordingly. Isaac keeps quietly talking with another young man that must have been hired just now. Boyd had called his name and position, taking over Isaacs old position, but Derek couldn't remember it right away with all the other new peoples names.

 

While Boyd is making his way up the hierarchy of the Maids, Derek tries to spot a slender, dark haired woman in the crowd. There are several, but none of them fit his mental image of the siren of his childhood. Of course, it was foolish to expect her to appear as she was years ago, down to the brown dress and open hair. If he had payed closer attention, he might have heard her position, but he was so focused on her exterior that he didn't think of it.

His thoughts get interrupted when Erica breaks out in confused cheering: "Chamber Maid? How- what? I can't believe it, how is this a logical decision? Boyd-"

Derek clears his throat. "Is there any reason why you shouldn't qualify for this, Miss Reyes?" he asks, hiding his amusement.

"I- my Lord, I worked with the laundry, sometimes in the scullery. How can you trust me with the chambers, all of a sudden?"

 

Derek folds his hands in his lap. "The decision Boyd has made follows a highly esteemed recommendation. Personally, I believe that in the past few days, you have shown yourself to be quite trustworthy. As a matter of fact, should my sister Lady Cora ever express the desire for a Lady's Maid, you will be the recommendation as well. Does that answer your question in a sufficient manner?"

Erica looks absolutely floored. Tears well up in her eyes, and she grabs the hands of the closest person. The tall pale man with short brown hair and soft amber eyes who is next to her winces as her hand closes around his, but smiles at her when she turns to him. She quietly talks to him, the excitement making her glow among the rest. A few of the surrounding people congratulate her with claps on the back and kind words.

 

Boyd continues to read out the last couple of names on his list. Derek tries to stay focused, but eventually just drifts off again, trying to spot his siren.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who could that woman Derek's looking for be? Also, who's Ericas friend?


	8. Chapter 8

Two weeks pass until Jordan Parrish requests a meeting in Dereks study. Derek waits anxiously behind his writing desk, when finally a Footman comes in to announce the Guard. "Excellent. Bring him in and shut the door. I do not want to be disturbed until Mr. Parrish leaves again.", Derek instructs him.

 

Jordan strides in with determination, reaching up to swipe off the cap he's wearing. "My Lord, I have good news."

"Well, don't leave me waiting then, Parrish. What is it?" Derek sits back in his chair, trying to relax his body.

"I was able to find a duo of middlemen who bought the things Adrian Harris stole from you. I've brought them in for further questioning."

Derek pushes back his seat, staring at the man before him. "That is good news indeed! What can you tell me about them?"

 

Parrish straightens his back, nearly preening at the praise. "The mens names are Unger and Reddick. They're been working together, but have been taking turns meeting with Harris in the Red Duckling tavern in town. They live in the tanners district, sharing an apartment. Both of them are unemployed. Their circumstances made them desperate for money, so they agreed to shadier business. The Sheriff has agreed to search their apartment tomorrow morning."

Derek starts pacing behind his desk, taking in what Jordan is telling him. "They're at the Sherrifs Station in town?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"Good. Have you informed the police of the continued theft?"

Jordan smiles at him. "The Sheriff would not condone keeping someone in lock up if he wasn't fully informed. Not even for a Lord."

 

Derek turns in surprise. "That's a good quality to have in a Sheriff", he eventually settles on. He notices his guards smile and realizes that Jordans character is exactly like that as well. "Okay. What about the person they were dealing for? Any word about them?"

Jordan frowns. "Not yet. They have been questioned twice, but refused to give anything away. Sheriff Stilinski believes we will find a lead at their home. Harris himself has not been very helpful either, he swears he's only ever talked with Reddick and Unger, never with their buyer."

"What about the connection with Miss Argent?", Derek asks him. He stops his pacing in front of the fireplace. He stares down onto the cleaned tiles, his hands folded behind his back.

 

"My Lord, I am not aware of a connection to Miss Argent", Jordan says, sounding uncertain.

"The letters", Derek supplies, "I thought you saw them?"

When Derek turns to face him, he sees Jordan standing with a dark look on his face, his brows drawn together in a deep frown. Still, his stance is as rigid as ever. "My Lord, I have not taken a look inside the letters before I handed them over to you. There was no time at hand. If you have more information for me, that would be helpful."

 

Derek feels like an idiot. "Right. I have them." He clears his throat. "Most of the letters Harris saved were in fact from Miss Argent. Some of them speak of 'their plan', which apparently involves acquiring money from illegal sales of my belongings." Derek fetches the letters out of his writing desk and hands them over. "I should not have held on to them, this is my mistake."

 

He's gone over most of the letters by now. They contain a range of shy to very obvious flirtations, sweet words and daring promises. As time passed, Kate had repeatedly implied she would leave Hale Manor with Harris if he so desired. And given by the way Harris kept all her letters neatly bundled up, and some of the responses she would write him, it was something that he desired deeply. She referred to it a lot by calling it their masterplan. "I believe Mr. Harris and Miss Argent were involved with each other. I do not know if she was aware of his activities, but I wouldn't be surprised if she was."

He thinks back to all the times when he's seen Harris keeping Kate company, of him accompanying her to town and him supporting her behavior. Derek has no doubt about it any longer.

 

He shakes of the thought after a moment to focus at the matter at hand. "I take it you'll be present when the Police will search those mens home?"

Jordan nods, falling back easily into his attention stance from where he had let it drop before. "I will. I do trust the Sheriff explicitly, but I want to see what they'll uncover for myself. Plus, I'm not certain that he will be present himself, and not everyone else can be trusted."

"Very well. I expect you to report to me when you come back."

"Of course, my Lord." Jordan agrees.

Pleased, Derek nods. "One last thing. I would prefer it, if you didn't say anything we've talked about concerning Miss Argent, or what you will find out with those letters to anybody in this house. Share it with the Sheriff if you must, but let him know that this is to be handled discreetly. Miss Argent is the vindictive type, and if she somehow gets wind of this, she might spin things around until nobody can tell left from right any longer."

Jordan agrees, then Derek dismisses him. He's glad that things finally move on, but then again, he thinks he needs a drink to deal with it right now.

 

* * *

 

Cora finds him in the evening, drinking alone in the Parlor. She gives him a pitying look, but then pours herself some of his scotch herself. Derek doesn't condone it, but lets it happen. He knows, it would probably fall on deaf ears anyway if he told her not to.

She sits down next to him and nips at the alcohol in her glass. She tries to hide it, but Derek can see that Cora winces at the taste in disgust.

 

"You've been drinking since noon", Cora states. It's true, he shut himself away from the world after his meeting with Parrish. It wasn't like he kept his glass full at all times, but by now, the amount he'd consumed added up quite a lot.

Derek nods, a grin spreading on his lips. "That I have.", he admits. For some reason, it's hilarious to him.

Cora sighs. She does that, sighing and not saying what is bothering her, so Derek pokes her gently in the ribs. She squirms, as she always does, always had, ever since she was a child. Derek misses those times. "I wish you'd still be small."

"Yeah, but that's not how growing up works. I've got stuff to do, things to learn.", Cora replies. She's very witty. Derek likes that quality in her, but others might not. "At the next ball you go to, you need to not talk."

 

Cora stares at him, a little bewildered. "I can't believe you've honestly have gotten drunk. Derek, tell me what's going on."

"I see you've invaded my question."

"Evaded", Cora corrects him, "but that's not the point. The point is that you've had way too much to drink and people will start talking if you develop a habit."

"I'm not developing anything." Derek sets his glass down onto the side table. It's empty anyways. "Can't a man drink a little every once in a while? I've had to think about so many things today."

Curiosity sparked, Cora leans closer. "Oh yeah? What did you think about then?"

 

Derek takes a deep breath. "Everything. You know, Kate Argent probably would have murdered us in our sleep if we still had her living with us. No, that's not right. She would've had somebody do it for her. Harris, probably. He would have totally done it. And then, She'd have everyone believe that she was the rightful heir to this house or something like that. Yeah, she'd have like, a fake matrimonial agreement or something. And she'd also get rid of Harris. Isn't that crazy? Why would she do such a thing?"

"Okay. That's something, first: Kate is gone. Harris is gone. We're both alive. Second: That is absolutely something she would have done. I'm glad she didn't, but I can clearly see her doing stuff like that. Third: You're clearly way too drunk, but you still somehow managed to say matrimonial agreement. Way to go, Derek!" She playfully punches him in the arm. He winces, since it's the one that got hit with a paperweight when Derek found out about Harris. It's still bruised up a little and tender to the touch.

"And last but not least, Derek you really should go to bed now. Sleep in tomorrow, sleep this off. You'll be way more content if you can think things trough clearly, even if that is one impressive theory you came up with. Go sleep." Cora places her glass down as well, then tugs at his wrist. He goes with the program and lets himself be pulled up.

 

Using all her strength, Cora bodily pushed him out of the door. The few footmen that are still around this late in the evening startle at their appearance and spring back to attention. Derek can't see it personally, but from the way the men quickly look in other directions, he can clearly picture the threatening look Cora must be sending their way. He can't help but chuckle a little at how uncomfortable they look. Cora pushes a little harder.

 

* * *

 

Try as he might, Derek can't find sleep that night. He keeps turning and twisting in his sheets, tries counting up to a thousand, tosses off his blanket only to later grab it again when he gets cold. He tries drinking a glass of water, but even that won't help, and only fills his bladder so he has to get up to pee again. At some point, Derek debates just staying up. He sits up and rearranges his pillows, then turns on the petroleum lamp on his bedside table. He grabs one of the books he has close by and starts reading instead.

 

Derek makes it trough about 20 pages before he hears _it_. There is a quiet noise outside of his door, a melodic little tune. He immediately throws back his blanket and abandons his book. At the door, he hesitates, choosing to press his ear to the wood first. It's definitely there, still far away, but probably coming closer. There is a weird scraping noise, and water splashing, and he can't help but grin. By now, he'd almost forgotten again, but now, the memories of his childhood are back full swing. She's back. His siren.

 

He waits a minute longer, just to make sure she's coming closer, then throws open his door. The person in the hallway startles, badly, and stumbles over a bucket of water. Derek gets a glimpse of short dark hair before an elbow, then the mop obscures the view from him. The man goes down hard, but manages to not push over the bucket with his foot, only jostle it enough to make the water inside spill over the rim a little. "Oh my God, Jesus Christ!", the man exclaims as his elbow crashes into the hardwood floorboards and his feet slip in the puddle as he tries to catch himself at least a little.

Derek is stunned, doesn't outright know how to react to that spectacle. He can hear movement from Coras room down the hallway. Apparently all the noise woke her up, and Derek feels guilty about it. Suddenly, it occurs to him to help the poor man back to his feet. He turns to go towards him, but the man calls out: "Don't come closer, my Lord, the floor is wet and slippery."

 

Sure enough, the man slips a little as he pushes a foot beneath himself to get up, but he quickly balances himself again with the help of his mop.

"Are you all right?", Derek asks him.

The man grins at him, his cheeks a little red. "Yeah, sure. It happens, I mean, not a lot, but you surprised me, my Lord."

Derek furrows his brow. "I apologize."

"Oh - oh yeah, that's all right. I probably woke you up, I should apologize. I promise not to sing any more when I'm cleaning this hallway.", he replies. He uses the mop to swipe up some of the spilled water. It is scented, like a flowerbed in the summer. It is such a familiar scent to Derek that he can't help himself.

 

"I thought you were an older woman.", Derek blurts. He doesn't know why. In the morning, he'll blame it on the alcohol.

The man laughs a little. "I've been a guy all my life. My name's Stiles."

"I apologize. I've just been thinking about someone who used to work here, doing what you do right now." It is too personal of a thing to share with an employee, but he can't take it back any longer. Derek frowns harder, berating himself for it.

"Another Nightsweep? You're probably thinking of my mother then. She used to work here, back in the days. She was really good at her job, and enjoyed it, too." Stiles tells him quietly. It seems to be hard for him to talk about, so Derek doesn't press the matter.

 

It is then that Cora finally opens her door, her body covered with a robe, and Stiles hastily turns around. "What's going on out here?"

Derek apologizes to her and tells her to go back to bed, while Stiles quietly sweeps up the rest of the spilled water and makes an excuse to quickly get away.

Derek sighs, but goes back to bed as well after he explains to Cora that really, this was his fault. Sleep still doesn't come easily, but when it does, it is a deep, dreamless slumber.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a reminder that updates will not be on a regular weekly basis any longer, as work and study will increase again. I will update as much as possible, but most likely not as frequently.   
> I've mainly started posting this to get me to write more, but the first few chapters have not been recieved as well as I hoped. It has picked up though, so your comments push me into writing more whenever I have the time. Thank you a lot, it really does make me write faster! Without you, I wouldn't have written the last two chapters by now. So there's that :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read this. I would appreciate it, if you left a comment telling me if/what you liked or what I could do better.


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